She was dying again.
Lucian knelt on the marble floor of the old chapel, his hands soaked in blood — her blood — as she trembled in his arms. Her breathing was shallow, too slow. Her heartbeat faded with every second.
"No," he whispered, holding her tighter. "Don't do this. Don't say it."
Her lips trembled as she tried to speak.
"I—"
"Don't." His voice cracked. "Please."
But she smiled through the pain. Weak. Fragile. Beautiful.
"I love you."
And just like that, her body went still.
The silence that followed was louder than any scream.
Lucian bowed his head, resting his forehead against hers. He didn't cry. He had no tears left. Not after how many times he'd watched her die.
Once in a fire.
Once drowning.
Once with a blade in her chest.
This time, poison.
Every life ended differently. But the cause was always the same.
Love.
"Seven days," he whispered. "From the moment you fall in love with me… you die."
He stared at her face — still, pale, and peaceful — as if she didn't just bleed out in his arms.
"I should've stayed away. I should've let you hate me. I should've lied."
His hands were shaking. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and gently laid her on the stone floor.
He rose slowly. Behind him, a shadow stepped out of the dark.
Soren Malric — his oldest friend, the only one left from the time before time.
"She's gone," Soren said quietly.
Lucian didn't respond.
"You knew it would happen."
Lucian turned to him. His voice was steady now — low and empty. "She said it sooner this time."
Soren's jaw tightened. "You should've walked away when you saw her."
"She smiled at me," Lucian said. "She didn't even know why."
A long silence passed.
Soren looked down at the girl. "We can't keep doing this, Lucian."
"We?" Lucian gave a tired laugh. "It's always been me."
"You think you're the only one who loses her?" Soren's voice was sharper now. "I've watched you destroy yourself every time. I've buried her too, remember? A hundred graves, all with the same name."
Lucian turned away.
"She's going to come back," Soren said. "She always does."
"And I'll lose her again."
"Then stop it."
Lucian's hands curled into fists.
Soren stepped closer. "Be cruel. Be distant. Do whatever it takes. But next time, don't let her love you."
Lucian nodded slowly. "Next time…" he whispered. "Next time, I'll make her hate me."
Twenty years later – Present day
Lucian sat at his desk, flipping through the new semester's enrollment list. His fingers froze over one name.
Amara Sterling.
His jaw clenched.
"Already?" he muttered. "You're early this time."
He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. The ache in his chest returned like an old scar reopening.
This was her. Again.
He didn't know what name she'd used before. The curse didn't care about names.
Only hearts.
This time, she wouldn't fall in love with him.
He would be cold.
Harsh.
Untouchable.
And maybe… maybe this time, she'd live.